Backup Plan
by ItsSnape
Summary: Dumbledore casts magic on Harry's Horcux after discovering its existence. This magic was designed as a backup plan to help defeat the Dark Lord just in case Harry did not have the necessary "power the Dark Lord knows not". When Harry fell to Voldemort at the Final Battle, the magic on the Horcrux reversed time, but had unforeseen consequences.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Thank you for reading! The first two sentences are from Deathly Hallows, so I do not own them. Everything else is my writing.

A huge "thank you" to _Coyoyotie_ for being my Beta Reader. Thanks again!

Enjoy.

* * *

 _Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed his fear –_

 _He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone._

 **.**

Harry blinked his eyes open. Everything was white. It took him a minute to sit up and look around. Slowly he saw the outlines of a train and then a platform materialize through the mist-like whiteness surrounding him. He knew this particular train station at once – King's Cross. Memories of all of the years he had boarded the Hogwarts Express here came to mind, and he had to push them down to keep his knees from buckling under the overwhelming grief. That station had been filled with color and joy, people everywhere laughing and smiling. Harry knew that those memories were long gone, part of a past that seemed like a lifetime ago.

Harry shuddered as he remembered the flash of green light coming at him. Now all there was left was this sterile white replica of King's Cross. This replica was cold and not filled with the emotions, the happiness that he associated with King's Cross. The black haired youth scanned the platform he found himself on, noticing a figure sitting on the bench nearest him.

"Headmaster?" Harry recognized the man almost immediately. Seeing the deceased Headmaster brought flashes of the man falling from the Astronomy Tower, glowing green from the Killing Curse. His presence confirmed Harry's fears: he had died. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Die.

"Harry, my boy," the old wizard's eyes were filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry that it had to come to this."

The Gryffindor made his way over to the deceased Headmaster and took a seat next to him. He looked at the man, numb in the revelation that he had failed, that he had _died_.

"I fear the worst has come to pass, and Tom has bested us."

Harry clenched his eyes, wishing he would have fought harder to win, to live as he fought back tears, "I'm sorry, Professor, I tried. I really, really tried, but – "

"It is no fault of yours, Harry," Dumbledore looked at the young man before him over his half-moon spectacles, the sorrow clearly visible in the depths of his once twinkling and merry eyes. "I should have done more to prepare you. Or perhaps I should have done less. I will never know. However, I do know, that all hope is not lost."

I slight spark became visible in the wizard's eyes. Harry raised his head to meet the man's gaze slowly, confusion mixing with the anguish on the young wizard's face.

"But both of us failed. You and I died."

"No, Harry, I failed. You did not. Yet," the old man paused. "I managed to secure you - how should I say this – well, a second chance."

"I'm sorry?" Harry's eyes widened. Was he not dead yet?

"You have the choice to try to defeat the Dark Lord again. I urge you to take this chance, the fate of the world as we know it depends on your decision." Dumbledore sighed regretfully. "I wish this could be easier for you, my dear boy, but I'm afraid that fate has dealt you a most difficult hand. When I learned of the existence of a seventh Horcrux in you from Horace's memory, I decided to create a failsafe just for situations like this one. I cast some intricate magic on the Horcrux – on you – that would allow you to travel back several years if the Horcrux were destroyed. I did this to not only allow you to have a future, so that you would not die at the hands of Voldemort, but also to ensure that should something not go to plan and the worst comes to pass, that you could live on, that you could defeat the Dark Lord. I'm sure you don't want to know all of the details, but the gist of the magic is time travelling spells and enchantments."

Harry started, "So I have the choice to die or relive my attempt of killing the Dark Lord?" He was angry. This was unfair. No one should expect one person – one _child_ – to save the entire world. The weight that Harry had been carrying since he learned of the existence of the magical world had become unbearable. Harry didn't know how much more he could carry.

"Harry, you must choose for yourself; the magic I placed on the Horcrux will only take affect if you truly choose to accept your second chance. If you choose to stay here, you will simply pass onto your next grand adventure, elsewhere."

Harry was fighting back tears again. Why was his fate so unjust? He had been chosen from birth to defeat the Dark Lord. He had lost his parents, Sirius, Fred… Countless lives thrown away throughout the course of the war.

He drew a deep breath and tried to steady himself. He hated that the world depended on _him._ Why did it always have to be Harry bloody Potter that saved the day? Harry didn't know what to do. He didn't want to die… but he didn't want to face that monster Voldemort again! Visions of his friends mourning his death flashed through his mind and he felt guilt course through his veins. He knew that he had to try, if not for himself, then for them. He owed it to Ron and Hermione and all of those who had _not_ lost their lives during the final battle, those that would have to live in a world where Voldemort had won the war. Harry could not let that happen. The torment that his friends would withstand under the Dark Lord's reign was unimaginable.

"I accept my second chance." Harry's eyes were hard and determined, but also filled with fear, as he raised his gaze to meet the Headmasters. The Headmaster could never get over the weight of those eyes and the experiences lurking in those green depths.

"Very good, my boy," an understanding, yet sad, smile on his face, Dumbledore stood, gesturing for Harry to follow him. "I have never attempted such intricate spellwork before, but I am certain it will work. You will be transported back in time to approximately the year before you receive your Hogwarts letter, give or take a few months. I am sure that you will find a way to defeat Tom. I believe in you, my boy."

Harry felt a jolt at the fact that he would be going back in time much further than he had originally anticipated. He would go back _years_. Harry had been expecting one year at most, just a handful of months. Perhaps that was best. He would be able to save more people this time around. Ginny would never have to suffer at the hands of that cursed Diary, Cedric would not die in the graveyard, Sirius might survive… Harry took a deep breath to steady himself. He had to do this. For Ron and Hermione. For the future of the world, for _his_ future.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Harry embraced the thin old man tightly. The wizard returned the embrace. Harry didn't realize until that moment how much he had missed the old man at Hogwarts. The school was not the same without him.

"You will do great things, Harry, when you decide to live. I have meddled in your life long enough. Please try to minimize that for me this time around, and enjoy yourself," the wizard said regretfully.

"Thank you, Headmaster. For everything."

"Not at all, my boy. Not at all. I will see you some day, hopefully later rather than sooner." With a soft smile and his trademark twinkle in his eye, he turned around and was gone.

Before he had a chance to blink, Harry felt a tug in his navel, like a portkey, and he was falling. The white platform disappeared, leaving only blackness swirling around him. Harry knew instantly that this was much worse than a portkey. He shut his eyes tightly, wishing the spinning would end, but it seemed to go on forever. He was certain that he got sick several times, but kept his eyes shut tightly, wishing it would all just end. The blackness enveloped him and he fell further and further down…

 **.**

Harry Potter woke slowly. Light filtered into the room through sky blue curtains, falling on his face. He knew this room from somewhere.

With a start, he sat straight up. He reached for his wand, but did not find it on his person. His eyes darted across the room. There were toys, a desk with a computer, even a television, alongside the dresser and closet. Everything was dark shades of brown or sky blue. Harry recognized the bulk of the furniture. He was in his bedroom on Privet Drive. And yet this wasn't his bedroom at all. Gone was the appearance of a prison cell. There was no flap on his door to pass food through, the bars on his window were non-existent, and he was sure that if he tried to open the door, he would find the many locks that held him in previously also gone. Harry's room was actually that – his room. A bedroom. _His_ very own bedroom.

That was when he knew something must be wrong. Dumbledore had said he would be sent back to age ten. Harry should have woken up in his cupboard under the stairs with the spiders and cobwebs and his tiny collection of toy soldiers, the only light filtering in through the slits in the cupboard door. Why was Harry in his very own, nicely decorated, bedroom?

Before Harry could come to a conclusion, a familiar voice called up the stairs.

"Harry, dear, please be ready to go into London in an hour!"

His aunt. Petunia. Petunia Dursley had used his name and was taking him out of the house. Harry rushed out of his room and into the bathroom down the hall. He came to a halt outside of his cousin Dudley's room. Glancing down the hall to make sure he was still alone, he cracked open the door.

Dudley's room was nothing like he remembered. There were no piles upon piles of unnecessary and expensive presents. Gone were the high-tech gadgets his cousin had received so that the Dursley's baby boy could stay "up to date on the times" and wouldn't fall behind from his friends.

Instead, there was a baby crib in the center of the room. The walls were lined with stuffed animals on shelves, a dresser and a changing table. Harry's eyes came to a halt when he saw the shrine on the far wall, in the center. There was a picture of a baby Harry was certain was his cousin. Under the picture was a plaque engraved with words that sent a shiver down the young wizard's spine.

 _In loving memory of our darling, Dudley Dursley._

 _June 23, 1980 – April 13, 1982_

Harry stumble backwards out of the room and sprinted for the bathroom. He shut the door forcefully and pushed his back against it. Sinking slowly to the ground, Harry tried to control his breathing. He felt nauseous. Dumbledore's spell had gone wrong, horribly wrong.

On shaking legs, Harry managed to get to the mirror and stare at himself. He looked ten years old again. His messy hair, his green eyes, everything looked like it had. He lifted his bangs to see the curse scar on his forehead. Shockingly, it had disappeared. Dumbledore's plan had failed. He had been sent back into a past that Harry did not know. If his aunt and uncle were nice and their only son had died before Harry's parents had even died, how much more was different? Anger bubbled up in Harry's mind. That meddling old wizard had messed up the past, and in doing so had destroyed the future. Anguish replaced the anger as Harry realized that there was a very real chance that he would never get back to the position he had been in, the future he had had, before he walked into that damned clearing in the Forbidden Forest and nearly died at Voldemort's hands. He may never see his friends again.

His only comfort was the knowledge that his magic was still with him. He could feel it pulsing around him, through his veins, keeping his body functioning.

One thing was clear in Harry's mind – he had to figure out exactly what kind of past he was dealing with. Since he was no longer a prisoner in this house, he could look around and try to pick up clues. The best way to do that would be to pretend like he knew what he was doing, to go to London with his Aunt Petunia and pretend that he had done it countless times before. He had to live every day and hope that someone would say something to him that would give him a better idea of what kinds of situations he was dealing with.

This determination pushed him to shower and get dressed for his trip with Petunia. He made sure to close the door to his cousin's room quietly on his way back down the hallway to his room. It wouldn't do to leave behind clues that he had been looking around. He should already know about Dudley's death, after all. Harry would have to be very careful. Without his scar, he was no longer sure that he was the Boy Who Lived in this version of the past. If he was just an ordinary boy, who was the Chosen One?

 **.**

The commute to London was very bearable. Harry and his aunt sat in comfortable silence most of the way. Eventually, his aunt parked the car in front of a building that looked like it was going to collapse at any moment. The building was made of red brick, and the name Purge and Dowse, Ltd. was still faintly visible in white paint on the brick.

His aunt got out of the car, Harry quickly mimicking her, following her to the front of the building. In the display window of the old building, sat a dummy. His aunt look at him expectantly. Harry had no idea what to do. The way his aunt glanced from him to the dummy and back, his aunt obviously wanted him to speak with the dummy.

"Um, hello, I'm Harry Potter and this is my Aunt Petun-"

The dummy interrupted him, "Hello madam and sir! Welcome to St. Mungo's. I hope you find your visit enjoyable."

Again Harry hid his shock. What had his aunt brought him to St. Mungo's for? He almost feared that he had given himself away and acted oddly, and that Petunia was going to have him admitted.

"I will meet you back here in two hours. I have some errands to run while you visit your parents."

Harry nodded stiffly. His parents?

"Step right through this window, Mr. Potter, sir." Harry nodded at the dummy before turning back to his aunt.

"I'll see you here in two hours, Aunt Petunia," he forced a smile and stepped through the display window, fighting his instinct that he was about to crash headfirst into the glass. His surroundings changed as soon as his he stepped through. Instead of finding himself in an old department store, he was in a huge waiting area. The whole place was a sterile white, reminding him of the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. Harry glanced around quickly, glad to see that there was only a handful of people in the room. Those who were there ignored him. A small frown found its way onto Harry's lips. Whenever Harry used to go into the Wizarding World, people would turn and stare and begin gossiping about the _Boy-Who-Lived_.

Harry felt relief rush over him. Perhaps this second chance would allow him to live more freely, like Dumbledore had wanted. He might be able to live without the meddling of the Headmaster and the involvement of the magical community because _no one cared._ He was no one special. For the first time in his life, he felt normal.

His relief was quickly washed away by a young receptionist witch who walked up to him with a friendly smile on her face and spoke words that cut through his heart like a knife.

"Hello, Mr. Potter. If you would follow my assistant, Ms. Blume, she will walk with you to your parents' ward."

His parents. Harry fought tears. His _parents_ were patients at St. Mungo's. They had survived the encounter with the Dark Lord! Or had the encounter even happened? Harry was on the brink of a breakdown when the young witch he was following came to a halt in front of a magical elevator. The black-haired youth pushed all of his thoughts to the back of his mind, exercising what little Occlumency he had retained from his sessions with Snape, trying to keep himself under control.

His heart dropped when the elevator stopped with a ding, announcing the ward. Janus Thickey Ward. Harry wanted to turn around and forget about all of this. This was the ward that Neville's parents were – had been? – in, the ward that Lockhart had been placed in. It was the ward for those that had permanent aftereffects of spells. His parents were permanently disabled.

Harry wished he could disappear. For a split second he had been allowed to hope that his parents would be alive and everything he had envisioned them to be. All of that had been stripped from him again.

The young receptionist's assistant must have seen his troubled expression and smiled with sympathy, placing a hand on his shoulders and squeezing.

"Your parents are waiting for you, dear," she nodded at the privacy curtains at the very back of the room.

"Thank you," his reply was a croaked whisper. Harry forced his feet to move toward those curtains. His body felt like it was filled with lead. He was terrified what he would find behind those pieces of cloth. Harry didn't realize he was right in front of the curtains until one of his hands curled around the fabric. He clenched it between his fingers and took a deep breath. He had to do this. He had to do this to discover all that was different in his past. He parted the material and stepped inside.

James and Lily Potter sat on the same side of their hospital bed. James staring off into the distance, drooling slightly; Lily was swaying side to side, humming softly, and holding her husband's hand. Lily raised her head when Harry entered, but seemed to stare right through him. Her mouth seemed to turn up the slightest bit and her humming got just a tiny bit louder. James seemed completely oblivious to his son's presence.

Harry crumpled. He couldn't take this. His parents were physically here, within his reach, but he would never have access to their minds, their personalities, their memories. He fell to the floor and cried. Tears streamed from his eyes as he clutched his hands to his chest, wanting to tear his breaking heart out with them to stop the pain. Grief overwhelmed him. He wished that they had been killed instead of _this._

And he _knew_ who did this. And he had a clearer understanding of just what kind of past he had been forced into. And he had a guess as to who the Boy-Who-Lived was in this past. It took Harry several minutes to pull himself together, and several more to realize that his parents had moved to the other side of their bed and were no facing away from him. He must have upset them, because James had his arm around his wife, and Lily had stopped her humming.

Harry confirmed his guess about his parent's condition when he grabbed the medical chart that hung at the end of his parent's hospital bed. They had been the victims of prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. They had been tortured into insanity and beyond.

If his parents had been tortured and Harry was no longer the Boy-Who-Lived, that only left one boy for that role. Neville Longbottom. Harry winced, knowing that the timid Gryffindor would have to go through everything that Harry had gone through. Neville's parents were dead now, Harry's were alive (in a sense). Harry remembered the prophecy. Dumbledore had placed both the Potters and the Longbottoms into the protection of the Order of the Phoenix once he learned of the prophecy from Severus Snape. Voldemort must have decided that the Longbottom child was the Chosen One.

Harry's head was spinning. He looked at his parents. His mother had resumed her swaying and James was holding her hand in both of his. He sighed. Remembering how Neville would talk about reading to his parents gave Harry the strength to try. He had an hour and a half left to spend here, so he might as well do something worthwhile.

Harry grabbed the most worn down book on the little bookshelf next to their bed. It was a collection of Muggle children's fairytales. He sat down in a chair in front of his parents and started reading. It didn't take long for his parents to react. His father laid down on the bed, gently pulling Lily with him. James placed an arm around Lily's waist and shut his eyes. Lily stared through Harry like she had when he had walked into the privacy curtain.

Harry smiled at her, filled with melancholy, and kept reading.

He lost himself in the stories. Knights and princesses and evil dragons. He would deal with those things, they were simple. They made sense.

Before he knew it, it was time for him to go. He hesitated over his parents, who had long been asleep, as he placed the book back on the shelf. Harry bent down and kissed both of them on the forehead and squeezed his mother's hand before turning and striding away. He refused to look back, tears stinging his bright green eyes.

On the way out of St. Mungo's Harry noticed the date on a copy of the Daily Prophet. July 20th, 1990. He only had a few months of summer left, and just over a week before he would be receiving his Hogwarts' Letter.

Aunt Petunia met him outside of Purge and Dowse, Ltd. exactly on time. Harry gave his aunt a small smile, and she nodded back with one of her own. Harry wondered why she didn't visit her sister when he did. Perhaps there was so much bad blood between the two that that rift could never be repaired. On the other hand, Harry didn't know if this was a regular occurrence, or if his aunt visited her sister and brother-in-law on other occasions. Perhaps today had been anomalous. Either way, he would only figure out the truth behind Petunia's reason for being absent today with time and careful manipulation and spying.

Harry hid a smirk and stifled a chuckle. He was having very Slytherin thoughts.

 **.**

The rest of Harry's summer passed rather quickly. Harry learned that he was a part of all of the mundane family affairs the Dursleys partook in. He was even allowed to have dinner with the family when important guests from his Uncle Vernon's job came over. It was really rather bizarre. The black-haired youth felt more and more like a less spoiled version of Dudley as the weeks went on. He even had a full wardrobe that fit him.

On his birthday, he had received his letter. Vernon knew nothing of magic, Petunia having told him that Hogwarts was a boarding school for the gifted. As different as Petunia treated Harry, she was still not completely over her aversion to magic. She had briefly congratulated him when she saw the letter and immediately changed the subject. Not that this bothered Harry. He preferred that she did not get involved in the magical side of his life.

Shockingly, his aunt and uncle had made him a cake and decorated the living room with balloons and streamers. They had even gotten him presents – a gift card to a bookstore and a DVD player for his bedroom, which had a TV. Harry had been in disbelief of all of it.

The very next day, a Wednesday, Harry went to Diagon Alley. Petunia again said that she had errands to run, and left Harry at the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron in London. Harry didn't mind, already knowing everything he needed on his school supply list and where to find all of it. The most important thing on the list was his wand. It had not travel through time with him, so it must still be at Ollivander's.

The first thing he needed to do was go by Gringotts. His aunt had given him the key to his family's vault. It was an uneventful affair. His vault looked just like it had the first time he had opened it all those years ago, the first time he had gone shopping in Diagon Alley with Hagrid. He filled a little bag he carried with him with more coins than it should have been able to carry before allowing the goblin to lock back the vault.

He decided to get his wand next. Harry enjoyed walking through the crowded shops without being stared and pointed at. It took him longer than usual to get to Ollivander's from the bank because he was able to take his time, not rushed by the feeling of eyes watching him, judging and admiring.

The wand shop looked just like he remembered the first time he visited, the first time he had been eleven years old. There was no one else in the store. Ollivander appeared from one of the many shelves of wands and looked at Harry with a calculating look on his face. Without saying a word he disappeared for a brief moment and returned with a wand.

"Ash wood, Dragon heartstring core, eleven inches."

Harry took the wand and flicked it at the box the wand had been in. Nothing happened. He frowned.

Ollivander took the wand back and brought another one to the counter.

"Birch wood, Kelpie mane and Veela hair dual core, nine and a half inches."

Again, the wand did not respond to Harry. Worry sparked in the young boy. What if Dumbledore's spell had destroyed his access to magic? He could feel his magic, but what if the time travelling had rendered him a Squib with no way to use his powers?

Harry noticed a glint in the wandmaker's eyes before he disappeared and returned with a third wand.

"Blood Wood, Basilisk Skin core, ten and an eighth of an inch."

Harry stared at the wand. He could feel it from here, magic pulsing and ensnaring around the wand. Ollivander noticed and set the wand on the counter instead of handing it to the youth. Harry glanced at Ollivander who nodded in the direction of the wand.

Harry returned his gaze to the wand and decided to pick it up. Before he could even move his hand to grab it, it shot into his palm.

"Amazing," the old wandmaker whispered. "That is a very interesting wand, Mr. Potter. Blood wood wands do not normally choose inexperienced wizards. I sense a great deal of controlled power in your magic."

Harry almost thought that Ollivander knew that he wasn't actually eleven, just by the peculiar way that he was looking at him. He wanted to hide behind his bangs when the door to the shop opened, interrupting the moment.

"Ah, Mr. Longbottom!" Ollivander said, switching his gaze to his new customer. He returned his gaze to Harry just long enough to tell him how much his new wand cost. Harry dropped the money on the counter and turned to walk out, not meeting the Boy-Who-Lived's eyes. He could wait to see his scar on someone else's forehead, to see the visible burden the young boy would carry that Harry had carried for so many years.

Harry left the shop and took a deep breath. He had a feeling that his old wand would choose Neville this time. He pulled out his new wand from his pocket. He inspected it in the sunlight. He did not know much about wandlore, but he could sense the power his wand held. The Blood Wood shimmered a dark ruby color fitting to its name. The wand was simple, the only engraving on it a line that wrapped around and around it, reminding Harry of a snake. The Basilisk Skin core made Harry wonder what properties that magical substance possessed. He knew that Basilisk parts were valuable in potions, but had never heard of a wand containing them.

A familiar hoot drew his attention. Harry turned his head, a smile blooming on his face. He could buy his Snowy Owl, Hedwig! The smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared when he saw Hagrid already carrying her back towards Ollivander's where Neville was experiencing what Harry had the first time he had entered Ollivander's. Jealously shot through Harry's veins. It seemed that Neville would get everything Harry had gotten as the Boy-Who-Lived, good or bad – fame, wand, and even his owl Hedwig.

With a sigh, Harry decided to find another familiar. Walking into the store he was unsure what he wanted, although he definitely did not want a toad. His eyes swept the cramped store and stopped on a cat. It was a kitten, silver and black, asleep in its cage. Harry made his way over to it and read the tag on the cage. He didn't have to think twice about buying this magnificent creature, and money truly wasn't an obstacle. He had always wished the Dursleys would get a pet.

Harry was smiling as he made his way up to the store's owner.

"I'd like to buy your male black smoke Savannah kitten."

"That'll be 15 galleons," the man answered gruffly, not even looking up from the issue of the Daily Prophet he was reading. Harry dropped the coins on the counter, grabbed his new familiar, and left the store, not caring about the shop owner's callous attitude, smirking at the headline that had been on the newspaper's front page. _The Boy-Who-Lived Returns._ He might be able to find humor in the horrible journalism written about the Chosen One this time. Harry continued on his way down Diagon Alley.

"What shall I name you?" Harry sat down on a bench with his familiar. The kitten opened one eye, then the other. Harry gasped with amazement. His cat had one green eye and one brown eye. "How about Remmy?"

Harry laughed at the appalled expression the cat gave him.

"I guess that's a no. How about… Houdini?" This time the Savannah kitten merely flicked his tale at him.

"Merlin?" The kitten began to purr and butt its head against Harry's fingers through the cage.

The boy laughed. "Alright! Merlin it is!"

Harry picked up Merlin's cage and continued down the busy shopping alley. The next store he came to was Madam Malkin's. He almost snorted when he entered the store and found Draco Malfoy chatting at Neville Longbottom with his nose in the air. Harry had to control a chuckle at the twisted sense of déjà vu this shopping trip was evoking in him. Neville scurried out of the store, allowing Harry to take his place.

"My name is Draco Malfoy. What is yours?" Harry fought hard to suppress a smirk. This was going to be fun.

"Harry Potter. Nice to meet you." He extended his hand to the blonde.

"I wish Madam Malkin would hurry up. I've already been here fifteen minutes, waiting to be measured. Of course she would tend to the _Boy-Who-Lived_ before she tended to me, even though _I'm_ a Malfoy, and _I_ was here first," the young boy whined.

Harry frowned, "Why would she do that?"

"Because that Longbottom is the Savior of the Wizarding World, where have you been living, Potter?"

"Of course I knew that, I was just wondering why she would show preference to somebody who has done nothing to keep the title of Savior since he was a baby. And call me Harry."

Draco's face lit up with childish glee, "I'm glad that we see eye to eye on that topic, Harry. Although I'm sure Longbottom would make a great ally in the future. I shall have to try and befriend him at school. He didn't seem very talkative when I spoke with him just a few minutes ago."

Harry nodded in agreement. Yes, he would try to befriend the Chosen One. Again he had to stifle a smirk. Perhaps the time travelling spell messing up was the best thing that could have happened to Harry Potter.

The two boys chatted until the blonde received his robes and went on his way. He had promised to find him on the Hogwarts Express in a few short weeks. Harry was surprised at how easy the future Slytherin had been to talk to, once he got past the Pureblood pride. The rest of Harry's shopping trip passed uneventfully. He managed to carry all of his new purchases back to the Leaky Cauldron only because he had purchased an enchanted bag, in which he placed everything he bought except for his new familiar, Merlin, whom he carried.

Petunia met him outside of the pub, again precisely on time. She reacted much better to Merlin than she had Hedwig. She asked his name and told Harry that as long as he clean up after him, Merlin was welcome in her home. Harry needed to stop being surprised at her actions, since she seemed to act very little like the aunt that he knew, in regards to him at least. Harry had come to learn that she still did not like magic, but tolerated the fact that he was a wizard. And she was still a clean-freak.

The car ride back to Little Whinging was passed in comfortable silence, much like the commute to London had earlier that day. It was now well into the afternoon, the sun hanging low in the sky. When they arrived home, Uncle Vernon was already home from work. He gave Merlin a scowl but didn't say anything derogatory to him or Harry. Harry greeted his uncle as nicely as he could, ignoring the scowl; he was still getting used to being treated like a human being by his aunt and uncle.

He carried all of his purchases of the day into his room and began to unpack. He placed the four-story cat tree in one of the empty corners of his room. There were feathers hanging off of the platforms that were charmed to play with any cat that walked up to the tree. Harry placed the self-cleaning litter box in the bathroom down the hall, which his aunt had already approved. Merlin's self-replenishing food and water dishes were placed next to Harry's desk. A pet blanket was spread across the bottom half of Harry's bed for his familiar to sleep on. Harry let Merlin out of his carrier.

The feline stalked around the room, inspecting everything before turning and giving Harry an impressed meow.

"You're welcome," the boy grinned.

"Harry, dinner is ready!" Petunia called up the stairs.

"Alright, Aunt Petunia!"

 **.**

The rest of Harry's summer passed quickly. The first of September came, and Harry woke up at five o'clock in the morning. He packed up all of his things into the trunks he had purchased during his shopping trip to Diagon Alley and put Merlin in his carrier. By eight thirty Petunia and Harry had loaded up the car and left the house on Privet Drive. Harry hadn't wanted to rush to the Hogwarts Express like he seemed to have done every past year that he could remember.

By ten o'clock, Harry had a seat on the train, which was slowly starting to fill with students. He had chosen a compartment far away from the one he had chosen his first time on the train as the Chosen One. Harry had a feeling that Neville would be there, as well as Ron and Hermione. Not fifteen minutes after Harry had taken his seat Draco Malfoy joined him in the compartment.

The two chatted excitedly about Hogwarts, and Harry knew that he could definitely get used to the blonde's company. He learned that the other boy's holier-than-thou attitude was mostly a façade that he put on in public. Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson joined the two boys shortly before the train departed at eleven o'clock. All four of them talked about the different houses and the Sorting. Draco and Pansy were certain they would be placed in Slytherin. Blaise knew he would be either a Slytherin or a Ravenclaw. Harry didn't know what to think about himself. He did know that he would not fight the hat's initial decision this time around. If that meant being a Slytherin, then so be it.

The rest of the train ride was spent discussing the school year ahead of the four first years. Harry masked his expression when Zabini mentioned the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirrell. He had not even thought about what he should do about the Philosopher's Stone and Voldemort. He couldn't imagine Neville doing all of the things that he had to do as the Boy-Who-Lived to save the stone his first year at Hogwarts. There had to be something he could do to work from the shadows to ensure the previous outcome. He would think on it later.

Draco had noticed Harry's eyes gaze off into the distance. He was obviously deep in thought. Whatever the black-haired youth was thinking about was much darker than the light-hearted topics that Draco and his two friends were discussing. The blonde made a mental note to question Harry about it later in private.

When the train finally pulled into Hogsmeade, Harry exited the train with Draco. Blaise and Pansy had rushed off to catch up with some of their other friends.

Draco look Harry over. "I think you'll be a Hufflepuff."

Harry pushed the blonde playfully and stuck his tongue out. "Only if you're a Gryffindor."

Draco scoffed, but didn't have time to retort. Hagrid, the groundskeeper and a half-giant, bellowed over the noise of the group of students.

"First years, follow me!"

Harry eagerly followed the hairy man, genuinely excited to see the castle from on the lake again. He had been nervous the first time around, but this time he could relax and enjoy the view. Draco walked beside Harry as they walked at the back of the group of first years. Harry glanced over at him and couldn't help but admire the way the blonde held himself. Even excited, he was confident and enigmatic, two things Harry had always wished he could be. Years of living the Dursley's abuse had ruined those two character traits along with many others for him.

Harry cast a repelling charm on one of the boats so that only he and Draco were able to occupy it. Draco looked at the brunette, impressed. Harry smirked at the blonde, hiding a flattered blush.

The boats began to move as one when all of the first years were seated securely in them. The castle came into view and grew out of the countryside around the lake. Harry pulled Draco's sleeve and pointed to the Forbidden Forest where a herd of centaurs galloped by. Glancing into the water below the boats, Harry could have sworn he saw mermaids.

Too soon the boats reached the shore, and the first years scrambled out of them and walked the winding road up to the castle. Hogwarts was as magnificent as ever, all of her windows lit up and towering over the landscape. The first years finally filed into the entrance hall, where Professor McGonagall received them with a tart smile. Harry almost snorted when her speak to them was exactly the same as the first time around.

It took all of his self-control to not laugh when he noticed that his blonde friend had gone up to Neville and asked for his friendship. Déjà vu indeed, he thought with a smirk, when Neville rejected his hand.

Draco scowled and made his way back over to Harry.

"It's alright, Draco, don't worry about that prat. Who cares about the Boy-Who-Lived anyways," How he managed to speak those words seriously, no one would ever know. One thing was certain – Harry was going to laugh himself to sleep after the feast.

"Yeah, you're right. I guess his title isn't worth anything until he proves himself worthy of it."

Soon enough, McGonagall returned and led the group of first years into the Great Hall. Harry felt his nerves begin to build. Draco must have noticed because he bumped into him playfully. Harry shot him a mock glare and gathered himself again. At least this time no one would care which House he got sorted into. He could only imagine the Hell that would have been set loose if the Savior of the Wizarding World was sorted into Slytherin. He snickered when he thought of Neville being sorted into Hufflepuff, where most of Harry's year mates had said he should be on several occasions. Draco shot him a questioning glance, and the brunnete mouthed ' _Later'._ Draco nodded.

As expected, the entire Hall was hushed when Neville was called up to be Sorted. And of course he ended up in Gryffindor. Draco was sorted into Slytherin, no surprise there.

"Harry Potter."

He half expected the whole Hall to fall silent. Relief washed over him when everyone continued to murmur quietly. Harry made his way up to the old dusty Sorting Hat and sat down on the stool. McGonagall lowered the hat onto his head.

 _Interesting, very interesting. Harry Potter. You will do great things, very great things. Just make sure you don't stray too far towards the Darkness. It's really only one choice for you. Only one House to help you on your way to Greatness…_ "Slytherin!"

Harry couldn't really say he was surprised. He made his way to the Slytherin table and took a seat next to Draco.

"I'm glad you chose the right House, Harry," the blonde smirked. Harry smirked back. The blonde had no idea. It actually had not been a choice this time; he let the Hat sort him into whichever House he truly belonged in.

The rest of the Sorting passed quickly, and soon enough Dumbledore gave his start of the year speech, and food appeared on all of the tables. Draco and Harry chatted excitedly with Pansy and Blaise, who had also been sorted into Slytherin. It was going to be an interesting year.

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you all for your wonderful reviews and favorites and follows! This chapter is a bit shorter, but I felt that I had to end it where I did.

Let me know what you think!

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Harry was glad when the Welcoming Feast was finally over. He had spent a good deal of the time keeping an eye on Quirrell and pretending to be as excited about classes as Draco, Pansy, and Blaise. The brunette still had no idea what he could do about the Defense Professor, but he definitely had to do something to stop him before Neville faced him at the end of the school year. The Gryffindor wouldn't stand a chance against Voldemort. He wasn't even able to levitate two feet off of the ground on a broomstick.

Draco walked beside Harry when the group of Slytherin first years was taken to their dormitories. Harry vaguely remembered the way to the Slytherin common room from his espionage under the influence of Polyjuice Potion during his second year. He didn't really remember much about the room, though, since he had been too busy trying to figure out who the Heir of Slytherin was to look around.

The group finally reached the Slytherin dorms, and Harry was in awe. It was more spacious than the Gryffindor common room, which had always made him slightly claustrophobic. He knew that he had been the only one in his House bothered by the tight quarters, and now that he was in Slytherin he knew why. He much preferred his own space and some privacy, neither of which the Gryffindor common room had offered in the slightest.

The whole room was decorated in dark green, silver, and black. There were several tables scattered throughout the room, and all along the walls were alcoves that provided some privacy for those who wanted to meet in bigger groups. The ceiling was lower than in Gryffindor, and the whole room was illuminated by a single magnificent fireplace and a multitude of candles scattered on the various tables. There were sofas and loveseats in front of the fire and in alcoves by two of the corners of the huge room. To the far right were the stairs that descended to the boys' dormitories, to the left those that led to the girls'.

The seventh years occupied the bottom level of the dorms. They had a magnificent view of the bottom of the lake through enchanted windows in their rooms. The first years had the very first level below the common room. Their rooms also had windows enchanted to see into the water outside of the castle.

Harry was pleased to see that all of the Slytherins had private bedrooms. That was another thing he had not liked about the Gryffindor dorms; he hated having to share one room with a handful of boys. Each door on the hall had a plaque with the last name of one of the first year Slytherins on it. Harry was pleased to see that he was directly across the hall from Draco. He nodded at the blonde and entered his room; they could spend more time together later. Both were eager to see their bedrooms and unpack their things.

He smirked as he looked around his room, thinking about how he should have just let the Sorting Hat place him in Slytherin to start with. The window was most definitely the highlight of the room, but the furniture itself was much more elegant than that in Gryffindor. All of the furniture was black. The floor was carpeted in a thick green. His bedsheets were silver and green.

The brunette began unpacking his luggage, which had been transported by House Elves from the Hogwarts Express to his room. Merlin began traipsing around the room, inspecting the new surroundings as soon as Harry let him out of his carrier. When Harry placed his pet blanket on the bed, the lanky kitten waisted no time in jumping up on the bed and curling up. Harry shook his head at the cat. He did not know how anything could sleep so much; Merlin had been spelled asleep to make the train commute bearable, and now he had already fallen asleep within minutes of being out of his cage.

Harry pulled out his wand and decided to give his magic a try with his new wand. He had not, after all, had the opportunity to practice any sort of magic all summer. He felt his magic swirl around him when he grasped his wand. Harry could feel it bending to his will, shaping itself into something that would do as he pleased. He focused on unpacking, and with a flick of his wand, his things had begun moving into their spots in Harry's new dressers and on his bookshelves. He grinned when everything finished and all of the movement stopped. He could still feel his wand buzzing slightly in his palm. He stared at the wood, already preferring it over his old wand.

A knock on his door drew his attention.

"Yes?"

"It's me," the voice of a familiar blonde called.

"Come in." Draco entered Harry's room and looked around.

"You unpacked already?" He was amused.

"With the help of magic," Harry grinned.

Draco rolled his eyes at the brunette, "Well, Professor Snape wants to address the whole House before we retire for the night."

Harry nodded. He had forgotten about Snape. The last time he had seen him, the Potions Master had been lying on the floor in a puddle of his own blood, giving Harry his most treasured memories. Harry shuddered. He did not know if he could keep his emotions and thoughts hidden from the master Legilimens and Occlumens, but he knew that somehow he must.

The two made their way up into the common room, where most of the House was already waiting. The last few students trickled in, and Severus Snape strode to the front of the group.

"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts. To those of you who have just joined out House tonight, I am your Head of House, Severus Snape. I teach Potions. Should you find yourselves in any number of unpleasant situations, feel free to come to me," he drawled in his rich voice. His eyes scanned the group of students before continuing.

"We are hated by most of the other students in this school. We are seen as evil and as aspiring Dark Lords," he sneered at them. "We will not allow the rest of Hogwarts to break us, so you will _not_ react to any taunts. You will remain calm, even when faced with bigotry. You represent Slytherin House, and in that respect, me. I will not allow you to dirty my name or disgrace the name of this house."

Harry had never bothered to think about the effects of the other Houses' aversion to the Slytherins until that moment. He felt ashamed and vowed to do as much as he could to end the needless rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and to lesser extents Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

"If any of you have issues that you cannot resolve on your own, do not hesitate to come to me. Whether it's a trivial quarrel between you and another member of this House, or something more serious, my door is open."

Without another word, Harry's new Head of House strode off with a swirl of his robes.

"I think I'm going to head to bed," Harry quickly turned to the blonde. He had a lot to think about before he could actually sleep, though. Like the fact that Quirrell was going to try to steal the Philosopher's Stone in just a few months. And that Severus Snape was alive and Harry felt like he should eventually warn the man about his untimely death.

Draco stopped him. "We have a few things to talk about."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but nodded, gesturing to one of the many empty seats in the common room. Draco shook his head and made his way to the stairs that led to the dorms.

"I don't think you want to talk about this in public." Harry was most definitely intrigued now. What on earth could the blonde want so early in the school year that required privacy to discuss?

When the two reached the privacy of Harry's dorm, Draco closed the door behind them and turned to the brunette.

"Do we need any Silencing Wards?" Harry joked.

"The rooms already have them, as well as countless other privacy wards." Harry's eyebrows shot up. He had only been joking, but was relieved that he would truly be safe and alone in his rooms.

"So what is it that you needed to discuss?"

"I noticed that you weren't particularly paying attention to Pansy, Blaise, and me on the Hogwarts Express earlier today. And you seemed to be in a much darker mood than the rest of us. Considering that we were on our way here, you should have been excited, not gloomy."

Harry hadn't realized that the other boy had been paying him that much attention. He would have to learn to be more careful with his facial expressions in public. But then again, Draco was his friend, so maybe it was okay to let his guard down just a little bit in front of him. The brunette did not have any idea what to tell his friend. How much of the truth should he reveal, if any of it? It would be beneficial to have somebody on his side when he needed help fighting Voldemort. He also knew that the young Malfoy Heir had not chosen a Darker path yet. Harry still had many years to change that path to a more neutral one. He had no impossible fantasies of his new friend ever treading a Light path.

Deciding that he needed to show some trust in the blonde for him to show some in return.

"I don't know how to feel about the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. There's something off about him."

"Why were you thinking about him before we even saw him at the Welcoming Feast?" Draco eyed him curiously.

 _Shit,_ Harry thought. How should he explain that? Stick close to the truth and try to let Draco feel like he was leading the conversation.

"I met him at the Leaky Cauldron when I went shopping for my Hogwarts supplies." Yeah, close to the truth.

"Oh. What was off about him?" Success. Draco had taken the bait.

"The way he walked, it was like he was trying to avoid turning his back to anyone. He never moved his neck either, just held it stiffly. And I don't know why a single man has to have such a huge turban."

Draco pondered what Harry had said. "Maybe there's an easy explanation. Perhaps he sustained a neck injury at some point? Or maybe he's just paranoid about being hexed from behind"

"Maybe. I just have a feeling it's more than that." Harry knew that it was, in fact, much more than just that.

"We can keep an eye on him in class."

Harry nodded. "Alright, I guess I'll head to bed now."

Draco made his way to the door left Harry with a friendly 'Good night!'

Harry needed to convince Draco that Quirrell was hiding something important. He needed the blonde to be willing to work with him to get Quirrell sacked or reveal that he had Voldemort latched to the back of his head like a leech. He sighed. This was going to be a long school year, and it certainly wasn't an easy start.

He stayed up another hour contemplating what he could do about the Professor before finally lying down in bed. Still his mind raced. What could be done? He might just have to wait until he saw an opportunity to tear the turban off of the man's head with magic or otherwise. He did need to stay hidden, so that no one could question him as to how he knew that the Dark Lord was attached to Quirrell's head. Worst case scenario, Harry could always stalk the new Golden Trio when they finally learned that the Stone was going to be stolen at the end of the school year. He sighed again, indecisive. At least he had several months to make a move.

 **.**

Draco and Harry met up in the common room the next morning and headed to breakfast when Pansy and Blaise finally joined them several minutes later. Schedules were distributed as soon as the whole House was present. Snape came up to the group of four Slytherins but spoke only to Draco.

"Let me know if any of the Gryffindors," he spat the name disdainfully, "give you any trouble, Draco."

"Yes, godfather." Draco met the man's obsidian eyes with a small smile.

Harry had almost forgotten that Draco was Professor Snape's godson. Maybe the blonde would be his foot in the door with the Professor. He did not know if his father James had terrorized the Potions Master in this past or if that had been Neville's father this time. Maybe the professor would drop a hint about it. Harry made a note to go and speak with Snape as soon as he had a valid excuse to do so, most likely with Draco at his side.

The dark-haired man turned and walked away with his trademark billowing robes. Perhaps the fact that he had refrained from making a derogatory comment about James Potter was a good sign that it had been Neville's father that abused Snape.

Draco and Harry looked over their schedules and the blonde groaned. They had Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindorks, as Draco liked to call them, first thing today.

 **.**

Harry was glad that Draco sat next to him instead of Pansy or Blaise during their first Defense class with Quirrell. The blonde's Slytherin demeanor made it easier for Harry to mimic his façade and keep his dark thoughts far from the surface of his mind and expression. The brunette had no idea how to reveal Voldemort on the back of his Professor's head without raising questions as to how he knew about it.

He watched the man's every move. He still stuttered and walked just as stiffly as Harry remembered. He had to fight a shudder as he thought of the man basically dissolving in his hands at the end of his first year. Well, first first year.

The whole class had to hide their snickers as their joke of a Professor stumbled and stuttered over class rules and what they would be covering this school year. If only his peers knew the danger lurking on the back of that man's head. Harry began to wonder in earnest why Dumbledore had even hired him in the first place. Surely there had been a better candidate for the position. Severus Snape would have made a much better Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, but Harry understood now why he had never gotten the position. As a double spy, he had to be careful, and being the Defense Professor would put him in a position to "accidentally" harm the Boy-Who-Lived and start teaching Hogwarts students actual Dark Arts without anyone ever knowing until it was too late.

Draco and Harry were the last to leave the Defense classroom. The brunette had never expected to run into Headmaster Dumbledore speaking with his old friends, Ron and Hermione. Longing coursed through his veins; he would give almost anything to be able to go back to the friendship he had had with them.

His thoughts were interrupted by the Headmaster's words.

"Have you succeeded in befriending Neville?" The red-head and the bushy haired girl nodded enthusiastically.

"He took to us immediately on the Hogwarts Express," Hermione said, smiling.

The three of them stopped talking when they noticed they were not alone any longer.

Harry saw red. He avoided their eyes, grabbed Draco by the arm and dragged him off.

"What was that about?" Draco hissed when they turned the corner of the corridor. Harry shook his head, breathing heavy, trying to rein in his temper.

"Harry?" Draco sounded slightly worried.

"I'm okay." His tone was clipped but he managed to take a deep breath and force a smile. "Let's get to our next class before we're late."

Draco let it go for now, but was going to need answers later that day. Harry knew it, too.

 **.**

The rest of the day's classes went well. After dinner, Harry and Draco made their way back to the common room. It was too crowded for Harry's taste, and he suggested that they go to one of their rooms to talk. Draco nodded and followed his friend.

"So what was that about earlier, after Defense?" Draco began speaking as soon as Harry's door was shut behind them.

Harry sighed and looked away from his friend. What should he tell him? Again, he didn't need to tell a blatant lie, he needed to stay as close to the truth as possible. He knew that revealing the truth about Harry's situation would be the wrong way to go. Draco would never believe him this early in their friendship.

"Dumbledore ordered Weasley and Granger to be his friends. It was their _mission_ to befriend the _Chosen One_ ," Harry's voice was low and dangerous, venomous. His green eyes simmered with half-hidden anger.

"Why does it matter?" Draco didn't understand.

"What if your father had ordered me to befriend you and you found out about it?"

Draco thought on it. "I would be furious and never speak with you again. I just don't understand why you got so angry over the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry shrugged. Time to change the subject. They were straying into semi-dangerous territory, way too close to the truth for Harry's comfort.

"So what about that clown of a Defense Professor, Quirrell?" Draco narrowed his eyes, not fooled by Harry's change of topic. He took the hint that Harry didn't want to talk about it anymore, though, and let it go – for now. Again.

"Yeah, he's such a joke. What on earth could he possibly teach us? My godfather deserved that position more than that dimwit Quirrell."

 **.**

Draco said goodnight two hours later. The two had talked and laughed and groaned about their classes that day and what the school year would consist of for the two of them. Harry smiled at the blonde as he shut the door to go back to his own room across the hall. The smile lingered, catching Harry by surprise. He was glad that he had been able to befriend the Malfoy. Maybe he would be able to steer him off of the path he had been on the first time. He didn't know if he wanted to think about having to handle his new friend becoming a Death Eater.

Harry sighed when he thought about his past. Eventually, he knew that he would have to tell the blonde. Sooner or later, the blonde would get too suspicious to let topics like tonight slide so easily, and when that time came, Harry needed to be ready to either lie or tell him the truth. Part of him wanted to lie to Draco, but he knew that the Gryffindor in him would never let the ensuing guilt die. That would end up destroying their friendship. No, Draco would need to know the truth.

With a flick of his wand, he turned the lights out in his room. Now the only light came from the moonlight filtering through the lake water and shining in through his window. He changed into his pajamas and crawled into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was asleep. It had been a long first day of classes spent fuming over the betrayal of his – now Neville's – best friends.

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Thank you for reading!

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	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Sorry this one took so long to get out! I don't know what it was so hard to write...

A big thank you to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/followed this story! You guys are a great motivation.

Enjoy!

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The first week of classes made Harry realize that he was going to be bored out of his mind all year long. He would most likely want to bash his head against the castle walls by the time Sixth Year rolled around. It was a simple thing to forget, really, that he would have to do all of his classwork and homework _again._ At least this time he would know exactly what his professor's expected of their students. Maybe that was considered cheating, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care, considering the circumstances.

The brunette knew that he would need something actually intellectually stimulating in order for him to retain some semblance of sanity during his school years. He could try to read every book in the Hogwarts library, Harry supposed. He could plan out every move he could make against Voldemort from the shadows in meticulous detail. He might even be able to somehow get Dumbledore to start his hunt for the Horcruxes years early, ergo ending the war years early.

He sighed into his pillow. It was way too early for heavy thoughts. The meager amount of light shining through his window told him that it was too early for him to be awake. Casting a quick _Tempus_ , he saw that it was only just past six o'clock. His brain was already racing and he felt wide awake, so he knew there was no way he could manage any more sleep. Harry climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

He had been extremely pleased to learn that each Slytherin had their own private bathroom attached to their dorm room. No more awkward moments when someone forgot their towel and didn't have their wand there to summon one. Harry decided on a steaming hot shower to loosen the already tense muscles in his back and neck. He could tell it was going to be a _very_ tiring day.

 **.**

Harry decided over breakfast, when Draco made a snarky remark about the Chosen One, that Longbottom Watching was going to be one of Harry's distractions of sorts. If he analyzed the boy enough, he might be able to better help him defeat Voldemort. So far Harry knew that Neville Longbottom was pretty much the same as he had been when Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived. The only exception was that Neville now had Ron and Hermione to force him into an attitude that was much more suitable for a Gryffindor. This made Harry ponder how much of his own bravery had been due to Ron and Hermione. He still felt utterly betrayed by both his two former friends and Dumbledore, and couldn't stand to look at them without his face creasing in anger.

One thing that really upset the Slytherin was the fact that Dumbledore had meddled in his life. When the Headmaster had mentioned the meddling at the train station after Harry had lost to Voldemort, Harry had never expected the old man's manipulations to run as deep as they had. Harry had expected the extent of the man's meddling to be contained to his hunt for the Horcruxes and the many times he had faced Voldemort. He had never thought of the possibility that Dumbledore would _condition_ him to be the hero that the Wizarding World expected him to be.

"I mean, he isn't a very impressive wizard. I would have thought that the _Chosen One_ would be exponentially more powerful than Longbottom is," Draco was oblivious to Harry's wandering mind as he sneered at the Golden Trio.

Harry's gaze traveled to the table at the front of the hall where the Headmaster sat. The betrayal he felt for the man was nearly crippling. He had thought that Ron and Hermione had wanted to be his friends out of genuine kindness, not because they had been ordered to by Dumbledore.

"Why do you dislike the Headmaster so much, Harry?" Harry looked at his blonde friend with surprise. He knew that if he lied to his friend, that his would lose some of the trust he had earned from his fellow Slytherin.

"I can't seem to get over the amount of meddling the old man has already done in the Chosen One's life. He handpicked his _friends_ for Merlin's sake."

Draco nodded, "Yeah, you're right. I just don't understand why Longbottom's situation affects you so much."

Harry shrugged, "I guess I just wouldn't want him meddling like that in my life."

"Thank goodness you're not the Chosen One, Harry." Harry and Draco smirked at one another. The brunette let a chuckle rumble through his chest. If only his friend knew.

The day's classes passed uneventfully. Harry spent most of the time trying to plan the unveiling of Voldemort on the back of Quirrell's head at some point before he went after the Philosopher's Stone. No matter how much he tried to remember situations that it would have been easy for the man's turban to "accidentally" unwrap itself, he couldn't think of a single one. Harry had let many frustrated sighs loose, causing Draco to roll his eyes at him.

"Just because you already seem to know most of this, doesn't mean that you can ruin it by putting a damper on my mood," Draco whispered to him during Charms with a half-hearted glare.

"Sorry," Harry had murmured, not even looking at the blonde. He didn't even look at his feather when he flicked and swished his wand at it to levitate it.

"Very good, Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger!" Professor Flitwick, a short balding man, praised the two, who were the first to manage the spell. Harry scoffed internally. If only the man knew.

After the day's classes, Harry and Draco spent the remainder of their time before dinner by the lake doing homework. Draco seemed slightly annoyed at how quickly and effortlessly Harry had managed to finish his work. The blonde went back to work, oblivious to what Harry was plotting behind his emerald eyes.

He needed to tell Draco some of the truth. Harry knew that his friend was as loyal as any Hufflepuff to his true friends – not that he'd ever tell him that out of fear of being hexed. Even just the last couple days of befriending Draco had proven to Harry that the two would be nearly inseparable in the years to come. The Gryffindor turned Slytherin just needed to decide when and how to tell Draco about his past.

His thoughts were distracted by the Golden Trio walking out of the castle and towards Hagrid's hut. He suppressed a sigh to avoid Draco's suspicion. Hagrid had always been pleasant company, and he doubted that his old friend would want anything to do with him as a Slytherin. This upset Harry. How many Slytherins had been denied basic friendships and pleasantries for simply being a member of the Hogwarts House with the worst reputation?

The more he mulled over it, the more he realized that he had known well before now that the prejudices against Slytherin House were extreme and, for the most part, uncalled for. Not all Slytherins were Dark, not all Gryffindors were Light. Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor and he was the most pathetic human being that Harry had ever had the displeasure of meeting. He had, after all, betrayed his family – and now also Neville's family. Light and Dark wasn't something that could be ordered into Houses.

"What are you thinking about now, Harry?" the blonde quirked an eyebrow at his friend. He had never met anyone who spent such an enormous amount of time thinking about obviously heavy topics than Harry Potter.

"The prejudice against our House," Harry answered honestly.

"Ah," Draco breathed. "You'll get used to it eventually."

"But I shouldn't _have_ to _get used to it,_ as you put it." Harry's irritation was building into anger. "We are all witches and wizards, and just because bloody Voldemort was a Slytherin does not mean that every one of us Slytherins is an aspiring Dark Wizard. Magic should unite us, not drive us apart!"

"I didn't realize it bothered you so much," Draco was surprised.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled. "It's just a matter of time before some of us – Slytherins I mean – become what everyone else expects us to. Of course we are going to go down a Dark path if all we are ever told is that that is the only thing we could ever possibly accomplish."

"You've got a point," Draco pondered something. "You know, if I didn't know any better I would think that you are a Gryffindor at heart."

Harry laughed. "You have no idea."

"Oh?" Draco looked surprised.

"Erm," Harry had no idea how to cover his slip. Maybe he should start revealing some of the truth, piece by piece. "What if I told you that I was a Gryffindor in another life?"

Not _technically_ a lie, so that was good.

Draco snorted. "And I used to be a Hufflepuff."

Harry mock glared at his friend and gave him a shove.

"We had better head back to the castle. I'm sure we've already missed the beginning of dinner." Draco packed his schoolwork with several flicks of his wand. Harry one-upped him and cleared his work with a single swish of his.

"Show off," Draco muttered under his breath.

Harry smirked, "If you wanted to skip the crowd of the Great Hall, we could simply head to the kitchens and have the House Elves give us plates to take back to the Common Room."

Draco nodded and the two raced back towards the castle.

 **.**

Weeks passed quickly, and Harry was beginning to trust Draco more. Possibly even enough to reveal part of the truth soon. School was still boring the brunette out of his mind, but he had come up with several ideas to keep him entertained for the next several months at the very least.

He had decided that he would just have to wing it when it came to unveiling Lord Voldemort under Quirrell's turban. The Defense Professor was still the center of most of the jokes the students cracked, and no one suspected a thing. He did remember many students, especially the Weasley twins, picking on the man's turban throughout the year.

Harry had also come to the conclusion that it would be useful for him to become an Animagus. His preliminary research into the topic had revealed that it required a great deal of mediation, which would work wonderfully in combination with the meditation it took to master Occlumency.

Speaking of Occlumency, Harry needed to get on his Head of House's good side as soon as possible so that he could employ his help with the topic. He knew that Snape would be more than willing to help his blonde friend. Harry did know that it was not his father that had tormented the Potions Master, but Longbottom's this time. That made it tremendously easier for him to get into the man's good graces. Well, as much as that was possible. The man was still a snarky bastard most of the time, less so towards members of his House, but still notably unpleasant at times. The man had to uphold his appearance as the greasy git of the dungeons, after all.

Getting his foot in the door with Professor Snape came much quicker than Harry would have anticipated. Draco asked Harry to stay after Potions class one afternoon to speak with his godfather about some topic that they had a paper assigned over.

"What can I do for you, Draco?" the black haired man stared at his godson only once all of the other students had left the classroom.

"I had a question about the essay you assigned, godfather. You explained that we are to go into detail about the significance of each of the ingredients…"

Harry zoned out, looking around the Potions classroom. It seemed less cold and dark now that he lived in the dungeons. As a Gryffindor he had always shivered at the thought of coming down here for class, but now he hated the idea of leaving the quiet and isolation of the dungeons for the hustle and bustle of the other floors of the castle.

"Were you simply waiting on your friend, Mr. Potter?" the Potions Master was staring at him, his gaze unnervingly steady.

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded. Had he still been a Gryffindor he would have had to mask his features from the man, but as a Slytherin that act was forever ingrained within him. He had learned from Draco that one was never to display any emotions to those one did not explicitly trust.

"Let's go Harry," Draco gave him a small smile. "Thank you, godfather."

With a nod in their direction, the dark man turned and stalked into his office.

 **.**

"I don't understand!" Draco almost yelled in frustration. "How on earth can this potion call for Lethe River Water if I have never even heard of the Greek Underworld actually _existing_."

The two Slytherins were studying and working on an essay for Professor Snape in Harry's bedroom. It had become the duo's regular hideout, providing peace and quiet that not even the Slytherin dungeons could.

Harry shrugged, "I don't know. I mean, I would have never thought that there would be a magical world right in the center of London. There must be equivalents in other countries, too."

Draco nodded, unconvinced.

"How much do you know about Occlumency, Draco?" Harry changed the subject.

"Father taught me some introductory material but nothing concrete, only theory. Why do you ask?" When Harry merely shrugged, Draco went back to whining about the stupid Greek river of the Underworld.

"You know what? I'm going to go ask Snape about that bloody river." Harry stood and cleaned up his school papers with a silent flick of his wand.

"Fine," Draco huffed. "I'm going to stay here and work on this paper some more."

Harry nodded and headed out of the door. It was a testament to the trust that he now put in the blonde that he allowed him to stay in his bedroom without his presence.

The trip to his Head of House's office never seemed longer. He knew that he had to start building a bridge towards an amiable relationship with the man if Harry was to ever receive help from him. Harry also knew that as a Slytherin, Snape would never give any information without expecting something in return.

Harry had not even noticed that he had knocked on Snape's door until he heard a gruff, "Enter!"

"Hello, sir," Harry bowed his head at the man when he entered the Potions Master's office.

"What can I assist you with, Mr. Potter?" The dark man eyed the teen standing in his door.

Harry closed the door to the office behind him and made his way to sit in front of his professor's desk. The brunette took a deep breath and figured he might as well go ahead and let the cat out of the bag.

"I was wondering if you could help Draco and me with Occlumency."

Surprise flickered across the Professor's face briefly before he composed himself. "And why should I assist two first years with such an advanced topic?"

"Well, Draco has already been introduced to the beginnings of the subject, and I have done a large amount of research into the topic and am prepared to spend as much time in practice as necessary."

The Potions Master stared at him for a long moment.

"What could a first year possibly need this skill for?"

Harry did not know what to say. In all honesty, no first year should need to master Occlumency. But then again, no first year should have to carry the burden and expectations of the Wizarding World on their shoulders. Sighing, Harry decided to, again, go with as much of the truth as he could safely divulge.

"There are Dark times approaching."

If his words surprised him, Snape did not reveal it this time. Instead, he stared at Harry again with calculating eyes. Without warning Harry was staring down the man's wand and barely had time to register the words he spoke.

" _Legilimens."_

Harry fought hard to erect enough shields in his mind to keep his secret safe from the invading mind. Forcing a calm over himself he instead tried to project memories and thoughts of his time here at Hogwarts these last several weeks. The presence tried to pry down his walls, sensing them and wanting them destroyed. Knowing that he had no other options, Harry let some of the less important memories filter through…

His abusive aunt and uncle.

Receiving his Hogwarts letter hundreds of times without being allowed to open a single one.

The Potions Master withdrew from his mind just as quickly as he had entered it. Harry did not know what to say. He stared at the man like a deer caught in a car's headlights, waiting for the imminent impact.

Snape stared back at the boy. Harry thought he saw something akin to sympathy flicker through the man's dark eyes.

Snape leaned forward, across the desk, and spoke with a low voice, "I will teach you and Draco to improve your Occlumency skills."

Harry could only nod mutely.

"We can begin our… _lessons_ Sunday."

Again, Harry nodded, "Thank you, sir."

The brunette stood and made his way to the door, only turning to bow his head to his teacher, never meeting the man's obsidian eyes.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Draco commented absently when Harry returned to his room. The blonde was still busy trying to figure out of the river Lethe actually existed for magical Greece.

"Professor Snape and I visited the Greek Underworld and its Lethe river."

Harry barely avoided the book that was thrown at him by a scowling Malfoy Heir, letting the tension drain out of him from his encounter with his Head of House.

 **.**

The rest of the week passed quickly. Snape had asked Harry to stay after class on Friday, and informed him once only the two of them were left in the classroom that Harry should be at the professor's office at two o'clock in the afternoon on Sunday.

It was one forty-five right now and Harry was fidgeting. Draco was playing chess with Blaise in the Common Room and Harry was standing outside of Snape's office. He had decided not to invite Draco to this first meeting.

Knowing that he couldn't handle waiting much longer, Harry knocked on the door. Several seconds later the door opened and Snape looked at him before glancing out into the corridor behind Harry.

"Mr. Potter."

"Professor," Harry nodded his head respectfully. He had certainly come to appreciate Snape's acceptance of him, much preferring it to the hatred he had known before.

Once the door to the man's office was shut, Snape strengthened the wards around the room with several flicks of his wand.

"You mentioned that there were Dark Times ahead. What makes you so sure of this?"

Harry shuffled nervously. What should he say to that? He knew that he could not lie to the man; he would see straight through any stories Harry told.

"I am not at liberty to say." The Potions professor watched him thoughtfully for a long minute, before deciding that his answer was satisfactory.

"You realize that I could pluck the information from your mind with extreme ease." Harry nodded anxiously.

"But I have agreed to teach you Occlumency, a very advanced form of magic. As a first year I do not see your need for this skill, but I admit that you have intrigued me. Whatever I learn from these lessons will stay between the two of us, Mr. Potter. I can only assume that Draco does not know whatever it is that you are guarding in that head of yours. Otherwise he would be here as well."

Harry nodded, "Thank you, sir. I have utmost faith in your confidentiality."

"Then let's begin." The lanky man shed his outer robes, revealing black trousers and a matching black button up shirt. "I want you to relax. Try to clear your mind. Calm any emotions. The first thing you need to master if you wish to perfect the art of Occlumency is mediation."

The lesson lasted just over an hour, and consisted only of Snape talking while Harry sat with his eyes closed, soaking up the words his professor spoke. Afterwards, Harry couldn't help but think about the stark contrast in the lesson he had just had and the "lessons", if one could call them that, that the same man had given him in Harry's fifth year. He could safely say that he preferred the lesson he had just received to the brutal and relentless battering of his mind.

 **.**

The rest of the semester seemed to fly by. Between being bored out of his mind with classes and homework, Occlumency lessons with Snape on Sundays, hanging out and bonding with Draco, watching and plotting against Quirrell, and keeping a close eye on Neville Longbottom, Harry was kept more than busy.

The Slytherin had learned that Neville was basically the same person he remembered him being in his first year: timid, clumsy, and shy. Ron and Hermione – who Harry had started calling Weasley and Granger even in his own mind as well as aloud in conversation with Draco – forced the Gryffindor characteristics out of the Golden Boy. The trio did everything Harry remembered doing so far in his first year as the Chosen One. They were still trying to figure out the mystery of Nicholas Flamel.

With Christmas fast approaching, Harry decided to stay at the castle over the break. He planned on starting his studies into his Animagus form while the majority of the student body was away from Hogwarts. Draco, of course, was going home and had insisted that Harry join him at Malfoy Manor, but Harry had declined the offer. The brunette did not know if he could face his friend's parents just yet. Perhaps when he was more practiced at Occlumency and could keep his emotions out of the forefront of his mind and off of his expressions.

As he had expected, the coursework was banal and not at all stimulating. Harry did enjoy the amount of free time he had from completing his assignments early. He and Draco had taken to flying around the Quidditch Pitch after dinner, before the sun set. Harry enjoyed flying and managed to forget everything for those few moments that he and his blonde friend zoomed through the air.

The first snow fell the week before classes ended and everyone left for the holidays. Overnight, the Hogwarts grounds were transformed into a winter wonderland. Snowball fights and ice skating on the lake ensued.

The morning that the students who were going home for the holidays left, Harry helped Draco double check that his luggage was completely packed.

"Are you sure that you don't want to come home? Mother and Father said that you are more than welcome to come visit for the duration of the holidays." This was the seventh time that the blonde had asked in the last three days alone.

"I'm sure, Draco. I'll just stay here and get ahead on classwork for next semester." Draco rolled his eyes at that.

"You'll have read half of the library _and_ completed all of next semester's homework by the time I return from the Manor."

Harry snorted and smirked at his friend.

The two made their way down to the common room where all of the students had gathered to say goodbye. Not long after the two boys had arrived in the room, Snape led the group of students who were going home for Christmas – which was everyone except for Harry, a third year, and two of the seventh year Prefects – to the Entrance Hall. The Slytherins were the first to arrive in the hall, and McGonagall checked off all of the students' names on a list of those who were leaving the castle. Five minutes later the group of Slytherins were making their way to Hogsmeade.

Harry stood just outside of the doors and waved to Draco before turning and making his way back into the castle. He stopped short when he noticed a snowball fight between the Weasley twins half a Quidditch pitch away from him. His heartrate sped up and he grabbed his wand when he saw a certain turban wearing professor heading across the castle grounds within firing range of the twins. This was his chance.

Harry cast quick Disillusionment and Silencing Charms on himself and ran towards the twins, carefully erasing his footprints in the the snow as he went. He glanced behind him and noticed Dumbledore standing next to McGonagall in the main doors leading to the Entrance Hall. They were simply looking over the grounds with serene smiles on their faces.

Adrenaline was pumping through his veins by the time he was close enough to the twins to cast a spell on their snowballs. Quirrell was seemingly oblivious to the mischievous grin that spread across the Weasleys' faces almost simultaneously.

"Are you thinking what I am, Fred?"

"I believe you are thinking exactly what I am, George."

Several snowballs began to fly directly at the Defense Professor, who had his back turned to the two redheads. Harry raised his wand and flicked it, willing his magic to knock the man's turban off of his head the moment two of the group of snowballs collided with Quirrell's head.

An inhuman shriek pierced the cold December air as the turban fell to the snow.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Woops. Sorry it took me so long to get this out. I haven't really wanted to write this last week or so.

Maybe the next chapter will come quicker, but no promises! With the next semester slowly creeping up, I feel like I already have less free time.

Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed/followed/favorited _Backup Plan!_ I'm so excited that you like it so far!

Your reviews mean a lot, especially the constructive criticism. I know that I have a lot of improving to do as a writer... So hopefully this story will allow me to grow and develop those skills!

Enjoy the chapter (which is rather shorter than I would have liked it to be).

* * *

The sound that filled the winter air was painful and shrill. Everyone still within Hogwarts' wards heard the shriek the shard of the Dark Lord emitted.

Harry stood still, adrenaline throbbing through his whole body, and held his breath. It was almost too good to be true. He had _done it._ He had succeeded. Voldemort was gone, even if just until next school year. _That_ was another issue Harry had to address soon.

Fred and George Weasley were frozen in place, their charmed snowballs falling to the snow almost comically. Their faces were twisted into expressions of pure horror. Harry's head snapped to the Headmaster, who was running across the grounds toward Quirrell and the Dark Lord attached to the back of his head with his wand pointed at the Defense Professor. Before Dumbledore could get anywhere near the man and the leech attached to him, Voldemort tore himself off of Quirrell's head.

Magic radiated through the brisk air. Voldemort became a dark mist and disappeared into the distance, leaving behind him a shocked Light Lord. Quirrell fell to his knees, expression frozen somewhere between pain and horror. Before everyone's eyes, the man pulverized.

Harry had seen all that he needed to. He made his way back to the castle to avoid detection, knowing Dumbledore was powerful enough to see through his Disillusionment Charm if he stayed any longer. Thankfully the man was suitably distracted and oblivious to the Slytherin making his way back to the castle, covering his tracks as he went.

"Albus," The Head of Gryffindor's voice was full of questions. Minerva McGonagall had made her way to where the Headmaster was rooted in his place, shock that rivaled the Headmaster's plastered her face.

"I had no idea, Minerva."

Harry was back in the castle, dodging the crowd of students that had gathered at the doors. His peers were murmuring to themselves in apprehension and fear. Some of the younger students were crying. How had the Dark been able to get into Hogwarts so easily? How had the Headmaster not known?

Harry smirked. Dumbledore was going to pay for the way he manipulated Harry when _he_ had been the Chosen One. After all, karma was a bitch.

 **.**

The rest of the day passed quickly. Aurors from the Ministry came to the school to escort the remaining student body who did not wish to stay at the castle to the Hogwarts Express. Harry holed himself up in the library with his familiar, Merlin, surrounding himself with books about one of his current obsessions: the Animagus transformation.

So far he had had little time to immerse himself in his extracurricular studies. He planned on being ready to attempt the transformation by the end of the summer when he returned to Hogwarts next year. As he read through the process of becoming an Animagus, he only grew more determined by the challenge the transformation presented. The first step in the process was to keep a mandrake leaf in his mouth for a month.

Harry was, for the first time, grateful that the second years had to deal with mandrakes in their Herbology class. He remembered the horrid creatures vividly from his own second year. It would be disconcertingly easy for him to sneak into the greenhouse during the holidays and pick a single leaf off of one of the creatures.

The Slytherin had charmed a notebook to appear empty to all but him. He wrote all of his notes on Animagi on the seemingly blank pages. Merlin had fallen asleep under the table that Harry was studying at. Glancing out the window, Harry saw the sun was at its highest point. On cue, his stomach gave a drawn out growl.

With a sigh he packed up all of his things and called Merlin, who opened a single eye and huffed at the boy before slowly stretching and standing up.

"You're such a drama queen, Merlin." His familiar merely flicked his tail and stared at Harry. "Let's go grab some lunch."

 **.**

Harry spent most of the days before Christmas studying in the library or wandering the castle with Merlin. His bond with the Savannah cat was growing into something he had never experience with his snowy owl, Hedwig, who now belonged to the new Boy-Who-Lived. It still upset him that he had to give up _everything_ positive he had had as the Golden Gryffindor Boy. Looking on the bright side of things, Harry was certain that he was better off living the life he was getting the chance at now. Not only was he out from under the thumb of the manipulative Headmaster, but he didn't have a crazed Dark Lord after him.

The morning of Christmas Eve he sent out his single present to his only friend. He was certain Draco would return the favor. They had been inseparable since they had been sorted into Slytherin. At dinner the same day, his Head of House approached him.

"Hello, professor," the brunette greeted Severus Snape.

"Our next session will be the day after tomorrow, same time and place." No one else would notice the exchange as out of the ordinary. Dumbledore had not been present since it was discovered that Quirrell had brought the Dark Lord into Hogwarts. It seemed that the Ministry wanted to question the man as to how exactly the Dark Lord had managed to slip into Hogwarts unnoticed. Harry took pleasure in seeing the man struggling with the press. There had already been articles published in the _Prophet_ that questioned the man's supposedly brilliant mind.

"Yes, sir." Harry was looking forward to the Occlumency sessions. Mastering the art would require mastery of meditation, which would speed up the Animagus process exponentially. Perhaps he could attempt the transformation before he even left Hogwarts for the summer.

Christmas morning came, and Harry was happy to find a present sitting by his door. The house elves must have delivered everyone's gifts. Unwrapping the present, Harry was struck by a feeling of loss. He had no one but Draco to send him gifts. Ron and Hermione… he didn't even want to _think_ of their fake friendship. He knew that he was being illogical. The three of them had had a real bond, a real friendship, beyond the friendship that Dumbledore had commanded the two Gryffindors to form with Harry.

 _It had just been initiated by the manipulative old bastard,_ Harry thought bitterly. Shaking his head, he knew there was no reason for him to spoil Draco's gift with his dark thoughts.

The box he had unwrapped was simple and elegant, sleek black finish shining in the light that filtered through the lake and Harry's window. Inside was a carving of a serpent, its eyes two emeralds. The snake itself was made of what appeared to be obsidian with scales carved into it masterfully. The carving rested on a soft bed of green velvet which lined the inside of the box. Harry reached for the card that accompanied the gift.

 _Harry,_

 _I hope you enjoy your gift. It is more than just a simple carving – I'm sure you wouldn't think that I would send something so simple and boring? I have the brother to this carving, and they will allow us to communicate from anywhere. Only you and I will be able to hear what the serpents say, and once you use your serpent for the first time, it will magically imprint on you and allow no one else access to it. I'm sure you will be happy to know that if someone is foolish enough to try to grab the carving, it will bite them. I found these in Knockturn Alley with my father and thought them the perfect gift for you. To activate your serpent, simply say_ "Spiras". _You can use them to communicate with me or spy on someone for you._

 _Thank you in advance for the gift that, I am sure, you sent me._

 _Enjoy your holidays, Harry._

 _Happy Christmas,_

 _Draco_

Harry stared at the serpent, amazed. He had never received something so thoughtful and perfect. The Slytherin felt like his own gift for Draco would not cast a shadow on the carving he had received. Harry had gotten Draco a collection of potions ingredients that included water from all five rivers of the Greek Underworld, knowing that the blonde would appreciate the gift while also wanting to throw another book at Harry.

Harry stuck the serpent in the pocket of his slacks and made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. When he entered the giant room, he noticed that the Headmaster was back, and that Neville was speaking to Ron in hushed tones. Raising an eyebrow, Harry was suddenly certain that their conversation had to do with the Philosopher's Stone. Smirking, he fingered the serpent carving in his pocket and decided to try out his gift.

He mumbled, " _Spiras."_

The carving began to move, the obsidian scales feeling almost real, as the small snake slithered out of Harry's robes and toward the Gryffindor Duo unnoticed. Harry couldn't suppress a smirk as he took a seat at the end of the only table in the Great Hall nearest the doors. A plate appeared in front of him, filled with all of his favorite breakfast foods. The house elves really outdid themselves every year on Christmas. Harry thought it was almost a pity that a major portion of the student body would never experience the elves' fantastic Christmas meals because they went home. But then again, they were probably eating far more expensive things than Hogwarts could afford for their students.

The Slytherin glanced sideways at Longbottom and Weasley, who were still engrossed in whatever they were discussing. Harry snorted. Their attempt at stealth gave everyone who cared to glance at them the idea that whatever they were discussing was top secret.

Ten minutes later, the Gryffindors left and Harry's tiny serpent returned to him. It slithered onto his shoulder and began hissing in his ear, hiding behind his unruly hair so it wouldn't be noticed by anyone who cared to look at Harry.

Harry struggled to keep his face stoic as the snake hissed in his ear. It recounted Longbottom telling Ron that Dumbledore had pulled him aside and told him that the Voldemort had tried to sneak into the castle and sabotage Neville as well as steal the Philosopher's Stone. Ron had scoffed and said that the Headmaster was taking the Stone out from Snape's grasp. Harry couldn't contain a snort when the snake told him that Ron thought the man was evil. Thanking his little snake, he placed it back in his pocket and stroked it, feeling the scales become hard and obsidian again.

All in all, the Slytherin was relieved that he did not have to worry about the Stone. He had pushed thoughts of the relic out of his mind once Voldemort had been revealed attached to Quirrell's head, wanting to enjoy a semblance of relaxation during his holidays. Now that the Stone was supposedly back at Gringotts Harry could push the issue of its existence to the back of his mind for now. He knew that eventually Voldemort would go after the Stone again, and when that time came, Harry would need to be prepared to find a way to prevent the Dark Lord from seizing the precious item. Maybe, by that point, Nicholas Flamel would have decided to end his immortality anyways and destroy the stone. Harry could only hope. Of course, there was always the chance that Dumbledore had lied to Neville and was keeping the stone here at Hogwarts under the man's watchful eye. But either way, Voldemort wasn't getting his hands on the artifact.

Now he could focus on his Occlumency and Animagus transformation, since he had completed all of his school work during his time at the library when he had not been submerged in books about mediation and Animagi. In fact, he was excited about his lessons with Severus Snape, knowing that if anyone could teach him how to Occlude his mind, it would be the Potions Master.

 **.**

By the end of the holidays, Harry was definitely improving exponentially at meditating. He met with Snape at least every other day, since both he and his professor seemed to have a vast amount of free time. Harry had a feeling that his Head of House was the kind of man who prepared for the entire school year during the summer holidays so that the man could enjoy any and all available time away from the pesky students as possible. The brunette was honored that the man had taken such interest in teaching him. Never had Harry ever imagined that he would appreciate the man favoring his Slytherins.

Draco arrived back at the castle with the rest of the students two days before classes resumed. The boy was excited to see his friend again and raced through the front doors and into the Great Hall, where Harry was waiting, and thanked the brunette for the Christmas gift with a mock glare. All Harry could do was grin widely at the blonde.

"I used your gift already." Draco's eyebrows shot up.

"Who did you spy on?"

"A certain Golden Boy and his faithful sidekick."

"You have to tell me _all_ about it." Green eyes glittered. This was the perfect way to build even more trust between Draco and himself.

"When we get back to the Common Room."

 **.**

" _No way!_ The Philosopher's Stone was here at Hogwarts? Right under our noses and we never knew!" Draco was disappointed that he hadn't gotten a chance to see the mythical stone. "Father used to tell me all about the Stone when I was little. It was the center of so many of the children's stories!"

"Yeah," Harry paused. "But I think the Stone was here for more than its own protection from Voldemort."

"Don't say His name," Draco hissed. Harry stared at the blonde.

"It's only a name."

"It's not just any name, it's the name of the _Dark Lord_ , Harry!"

Harry scoffed, "Dark Lord, my arse. A _snowball_ chased him off."

Draco choked on his laughs. Harry knew that he needed to start planting seeds of doubt in the Malfoy's mind if he wanted his friend to stay as far away from becoming a Death Eater as possible in the future.

"He's _insane_ , Draco. He tortured and killed innocents during the last War, and everyone thought he was finally gone just over a decade ago. Voldemort," he enunciated the name, "is twisted and needs to be stopped again, and this time for good."

"I guess." Harry could see the blonde's thoughts flash through his grey-blue eyes. It had been indirectly ingrained in him from birth that the Dark Lord was a God whom Draco must obey and follow. All of the fitting ideologies and prejudices had been taught to him by his Father. But there was a flicker of doubt that passed through those grey-blue depths at Harry's words. That gave Harry hope that he _could_ change the path that Draco was on.

"Alright I'm going to bed, Draco." Harry faked a yawn.

"See you tomorrow, Harry. It's great to see you." The blonde gave his friend a warm hug. Harry smiled at his friend and shut the door to his room after Draco left. It was amazing how warm the hug from his friend had been. He would have scoffed at the notion that _Draco Malfoy_ gave _warm hugs_ just a few months ago.

Harry changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed. He had spent at least an hour before bed each night since his first Occlumency lesson with Severus Snape practicing his meditation. He could already noticed drastic improvements in his thought patterns during his lessons.

Clearing his mind, Harry focused on nothing but his breathing, and how each breath sent his magic and life throughout his body, branching outward from his heart. He had never paid attention to his magical core before, but now it was blindingly obvious. He could feel the steady beat of his magic in time with his heartbeat. It was fantastic, raw energy pulsing in his being.

 **.**

It was the week before the end of term, and Harry was thrumming with excitement. He was finally ready to attempt the Animagus transformation. After months and months of practice mediating, he was finally able to erect a somewhat sturdy Occlumency shield. He was also skilled enough to finish all of the steps towards achieving the transformation.

Harry had a sense of what his form was, magically. He could feel the way the creature that was the representation of his soul move with stealth within his veins. The beast's heart beat with his, in tune, ready to pounce and surface, completing the Animagus transformation. Harry had read countless books on the subject and knew that there was nothing more he could do to prepare himself for the initial transformation. He had learned that no one as young as he was had attempted the intense magic, and that no one knew if his Animagus form would be an juvenile or full grown animal.

He was sitting cross-legged in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He had placed a simple Notice Me Not Charm on the door to the bathroom that everyone avoided like the plague, certain that he would be alone here.

Harry focused on his magic and on the animal within it. It coursed through his entire being. Harry let the human part of him drift further and further to the back of his mind, and allowed the beast to surface. Suddenly, he felt his bones and skin shifting. It wasn't exactly painful, but it was definitely not a pleasant sensation.

The transformation took longer than Harry expected. When it was finally complete, he opened his eyes, meeting his gaze in the mirror that Harry had charmed into place in front of him. He was a feline, sleek and powerfully built. He was still an adolescent, proving that Animagus forms reflected the age of the wizard. He looked like a jaguar or a leopard, only smaller. His ears were rounded, and his eyes were an eerie, reflective green. The black markings on his face and his body sharply contrasted the rest of his light brown fur, and formed thick black lines around his eyes. These markings mirror his glasses in his human form.

Harry released a purr as he inspected himself. He was pleased with his animal form. He could definitely work with this.

Harry froze when he heard the bathroom door open. He jumped behind the nearest stall and eyed the intruder, who had not noticed the small wild cat.

"Merlin?!" Harry voiced, eyeing his familiar suspiciously. Surprise bubbled up when he heard himself speak. How could he speak? Animagi could not speak while transformed.

"Why didn't you tell me you're a cat!? We could have had _so_ much fun already. And you're an ocelot… How wonderfully exotic." Harry could only stare at his cat in wonder.

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Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

A huge thank you to **_Coyoyotie_** for being my Beta for this story. You do a fantastic job working through the plot and silly mistakes with me!

Also, thank you to everyone who to the time to review/follow/favorite this story... I'm glad it is interesting you guys!

I keep starting chapters, hoping that they turn out at least 5k words, but that hasn't been happening. So... here's another short one. Don't shoot me.

Enjoy!

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"You can _talk?_ " Harry stared at his familiar, flabbergasted.

Merlin scoffed. "Of course I can talk, silly. I've always been able to talk. I just sensed your magic acting abnormally, so I came to check on you. Imagine my surprise when I saw that you are a wild cat."

The Slytherin's mind was racing. It was obviously no coincidence that he was able to hear his familiar after completing his Animagus transformation. He would have to spend some time in the library researching bonds between Animagi and their familiars.

"You _are_ a handsome cat, if I may say so. You coat patterns are very striking. And your _eyes_ are so _green_." Merlin padded over to the stall that Harry had slowly come out of to admire him up close.

"Do you understand me in my human form?"

"Of course. You're the one that's too daft to understand me."

There was nothing about this situation that Harry didn't find intriguing. This turn of events could definitely be used to his advantage in the future.

"So you can sense my magic, too?"

"I said that, didn't I?" Harry scowled at his familiar's attitude. If looks could kill, Merlin would have died. Harry's ocelot form looked fearsome with the expression on his face.

"I guess I'd better change back now before I chase you through the castle for your snarky replies."

Merlin chuckled, but it came out more as a purr. With a huff, Harry concentrated on the animal flowing through his magic, and began drawing it back, reining it in. He was essentially caging the beast, his Animagus form. He slowly felt his bones shift and grow. His beautiful fur was replaced by skin and clothing.

"I'm sorry I can't hear you in this form, Merlin." Harry smiled at his familiar. "Although I'm not sorry that I can't hear your snarky attitude."

The boy saw his cat basically roll his eyes. His mind was tickled by the sensation of exasperation. Harry's eyes widened. _He_ was definitely not exasperated. That could only mean…

"Was that your emotion?" The exasperation was replaced with amusement, again not his own. The foreign emotions were weak, but they were definitely tangible.

"I will definitely have to research the bond we share." Merlin padded around Harry's legs in agreement before making his way out of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, flicking his tail in goodbye.

"See you later, Merlin."

Harry grabbed his things and headed straight to the library. He had come to the hypothesis that Merlin and he could not actually speak to one another when he was an ocelot. Instead, they were communicating telepathically. That would also explain why he had felt his familiar's emotions, if only vaguely, when he transformed back into his human form. Perhaps the initial transformation had triggered the mental bond between the two, at least from Harry's end. Merlin had implied that he had been able to understand Harry and maybe even feel his own emotions. His cat had also mentioned feeling his magic acting up when he transformed into his animal.

Harry pulled all of the books off of the shelves of the Hogwarts library that had to do with mental bonds and hunkered down, in his favorite corner by one of the enormous windows, to research. He had already prepared for his end of term exams, which he knew he would pass with flying colors, since he had taken the courses already. Studying had consisted of reading through everything that he had covered once, simply to refresh his memory of the subjects.

After several hours of reading, Harry's mind began to wander to his blond friend.

Draco was goofing off with Blaise and Pansy, whom Harry could stand. Blaise was tolerable, but Pansy was just plain annoying and girly. Harry did not see how or why Draco put up with her. The blond had told him that he had grown up with the other two Slytherins, so it only made sense that the three had a deep bond of friendship. It made Harry slightly jealous. He had never had friends as a child. His cousin Dudley had made sure of that.

But what if, since Dudley was dead, Harry had actually made friends in his first few years of school? He did not remember Petunia mentioning any friends, and no one had knocked on the Dursley's door and asked if Harry could come out and play. Harry knew it was a good possibility that he had been labeled a freak, even without his cousin there to instigate the bullying. It wouldn't surprise him at all, considering that the only friends he _had_ had were forced by Dumbledore to befriend him.

A sudden realization dawned on Harry. Draco Malfoy was his best friend. He had never had anyone with whom he could truly be himself. Even with Weasley and Granger, he had been forced to keep up his façade of the Boy-Who-Lived. The Golden Trio, when he had been a part of it, had been a real friendship, but it was nothing like what Harry felt for Draco. He felt happy and had more fun doing the simplest of things with his fellow Slytherin than he had ever had with either Gryffindor.

It was becoming harder and harder for Harry to withhold the information of his - time travel? He still did not know exactly what to call it. Draco deserved to know about Harry's past eventually. The brunette knew that he would have to start revealing information to Draco sometime within the next year, if for no other reason than his own sanity.

Harry had come to realize over the months that he should have let the Sorting Hat place him in Slytherin, consequences be damned, the first time around. It was only know that he knew the invisible and eventually intangible burden being the Gryffindor Golden Boy had put on him. Still, he ached for his friends. His loss of his first life would forever haunt him, Harry knew that. The two Gryffindors had been his first friends.

Harry brought his mind back to the book in front of him and sighed. So far all he had been able to dig up about mental bonds between familiars and Animagi was the fact that they existed. Harry snorted. That tidbit of information was so very helpful. Sighing, he shut the book and began placing all of them back on the shelves.

That was habit a Harry had picked up in order to cover his tracks. He couldn't have anybody finding out why he was reading an ungodly number of books on Animagi. His form needed to be kept a secret. It was unheard of for a first year to become an Animagus, and Harry knew that he would have never been able to attempt it his first time as an eleven year old. Not to mention that it was illegal to become an Animagus without the Ministry's close supervision and advance approval. Harry needed to put off registering his form as long as Voldemort still prowled Britain.

 **.**

June fifth was Draco's birthday. Harry had debated long and hard on what to get the blond, and decided that a handmade gift would suit the blond more than an expensive one. After all, his family had all the money in the world to buy him lavish things. Harry wanted his gift to be special.

He had made his friend a warded storage trunk for the blond's potions ingredients.

Draco had beamed excitedly when Harry gave him his gift. The hug Harry received was definitely worth the trouble he had gone to, to ward the trunk just right.

 **.**

As Harry had expected, he finished his end of term exams quickly. He was certain that his marks would be nearly perfect. Now he had all summer to worry about Voldemort and to perfect his Animagus transformation.

Harry stood outside of the Potions classroom in the dungeons, waiting for Draco to finish his last exam as well, so that the two of them could go celebrate the end of the semester and begin packing their bags. He had been the first to finish the Potions exam, and Harry was expecting his blond friend to be one of the next few people that finished. To his surprise, it was a certain bushy haired Gryffindor who exited the dungeon classroom ten or so minutes after Harry.

"How did you finish so quickly?" Hermione looked exasperated, obviously not used to not being the first to finish her exams. Harry felt a pang of something akin to anger at the witch, and decided to hold his tongue. Instead, he simply stared at her cooly.

"How you hang out with that dreadful Malfoy is beyond me. You seem like such a nice boy."

Harry couldn't suppress a sneer. "Perhaps if you didn't judge everyone based on your little posse's opinions of others, you would realize that "that dreadful Malfoy" is actually a decent human being."

Hermione looked taken aback as she said, "I know how to think for myself!"

"Which is why you just _had_ to befriend the Boy-Who-Lived, right? It didn't have anything to do with Dumbledore's _orders_ to do so." Harry turned around and stormed off. As soon as he rounded the nearest corner, he spun around and punched the wall.

 _Damn it_ , Harry thought. Why did he have to let Dumbledore's involvement in his ex-friends – he had to remind himself constantly that they were, in fact, _ex-friends_ – infuriate him every time it was mentioned? The Slytherin knew he needed to let it go, because the festering anger would become something much more twisted and dark if he did not. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to care. He was hurt, he was betrayed, and worst of all, he still missed Ron and Hermione.

The only time that Harry forgot about his loss of his previous life was when he was enjoying Draco's company. Regardless of what they were doing, Draco was a distraction from Harry's more turbulent and depressed thoughts. Harry knew that he would have fallen apart by now if it wasn't for his friend.

The sharp, throbbing pain in his knuckles brought him back to the present. He was sure he had at least cracked parts of them. Harry cast a rudimentary healing charm on his hand, knowing that he would need to visit the Infirmary sometime today. Deciding he might as well do something productive while he waited on his friend, he wrote a quick note for Draco and charmed it to levitate in front of the door and fly into the blond's hands once he exited the classroom.

Madame Pomfrey tsked at him when he told her that he punched a wall out of frustration. She thought the source of that emotion was the final exams, and he was not going to dissuade that notion. Let her think what she wanted. Harry knew that it was suspicious, and that Draco was catching on, that he could not look at the Gryffindor Trio for any extended period of time without getting agitated.

The Mediwitch fixed his swollen and bruised knuckles and handed him a potion to take before he went to sleep tonight that would complete the healing process. As Harry was exiting the Infirmary, he nearly ran into Draco.

"How did the exam go?" Harry grinned at his friend who looked slightly ruffled from the Potions exam.

"Fine," Draco said shortly. "Why were you in the Infirmary?"

"Punched a wall."

Draco snorted. "Why?"

"Granger insulted you, and if I didn't punch the wall, I would have punched her."

Draco flashed Harry an over exaggerated thankful smile, "Thank you for protecting my reputation."

"You're very welcome, Dray." Harry took off running when his friend shot him a look filled with mock ire and started chasing him.

 **.**

"But really, why do you insist on calling me _Dray_ all of a sudden?" Draco had been pestering Harry about it since he used the nickname almost a week ago.

Harry shrugged, like he had every time he had been asked so far.

The duo was sitting in the Hogwarts Express, waiting for the train to start its long journey back to London. Harry was not looking forward to spending the summer back at his aunt and uncles. He knew that it would be nothing like the summers he had spent with them before, but Harry was still anxious about it. September couldn't come fast enough.

He was sure that Petunia would allow him to see Draco whenever she drove into London for errands. It just wouldn't be the same as spending virtually all day, every day, with the Malfoy Heir.

"Harry," Draco whined. "Tell me."

Harry laughed at his friend, finally giving in. "I guess because I've never had an honest to goodness friend, I've always longed to have someone I could call some nickname."

Draco looked at him. "You've never been friends with anyone?"

"Not really."

"Not in Muggle school, before you came to Hogwarts?"

"Nope."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I can't imagine growing up without Blaise and Pansy to keep me company."

Harry smiled warmly at his best friend. Draco returned the warmth with his own grin.

"It's okay, Dray. At least I have a friend now! That's all that really matters, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Draco smirked. "And I'm the best friend you'll ever have. I'm perfect friendship material."

Harry laughed at the blond's fake haughtiness. "If you say so."

The long train ride was spent chatting and playing Exploding Snap. It seemed like the ride was shorter going back than it was going to Hogwarts at the beginning of the semester. Too soon, Harry and Draco exited their compartment and made their way to the platform outside. Harry hugged his friend before they stepped off of the train, knowing that Draco's father wouldn't take kindly to such emotional displays.

Seeing Lucius Malfoy made Harry nervous. It reminded him that he needed to find a way to destroy the first Horcrux, Tom Riddle's diary, before it could sink its claws into Ginny Weasley.

Thinking of Ginny made Harry realize how little he missed her in comparison to Ron and Hermione. It didn't really surprise the brunette. He had always felt that he had been pressured into being in a relationship with the ginger girl. _Of course_ it was expected of him, the Golden Boy, to date and eventually marry someone from a Light family like the Weasleys. And Ginny had been too easy to be assigned that position, what with Harry's "best mate" Ron being her older brother.

Harry cleared his thoughts as he and Draco approached the blond's parents.

"Mother, Father," Draco greeted his mother with a hug and a peck to her cheek. He simply nodded at his father in greeting. "This is my friend from Hogwarts, Harry Potter."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Harry." Narcissa Malfoy embraced him lightly, smiling warmly.

"Mr. Potter," Lucius nodded at Harry coolly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, as well, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy." Harry could not believe he was having a conversation with a Death Eater and his wife. Narcissa seemed nice enough, but Harry knew that Lucius was the biggest influence on Draco so far. He would have to continue to plant seeds of doubt in Draco's mind about his father's convictions.

"I'll see you soon, Draco. I'm going to go find my aunt." He smiled at the blond, who returned the gesture. Harry excused himself from the Malfoys and made his way to the platform's exit. He knew that his aunt would never venture onto the magical platform.

Harry already wanted to tear his hear out in boredom. This summer was going to be horribly dull.

 **.**

As expected, Harry was able to meet up with Draco whenever his aunt invited him along to London. They met in Diagon Alley and strolled through the busy shopping area. They had ice cream and browsed the many book stores and other stores filled with oddities. Harry had fun.

He was also able to buy several books on telepathic bonds and bonds with familiars, hoping that at least one of them would do more than simply mention the kind of bond that he had with Merlin. So far, none of the books he had found held any valuable information. They dealt mostly with artificial bonds and bonds that were forced, not ones that simply popped into existence, like with Harry and Merlin.

Since his initial transformation, Harry had slowly started sensing his familiar's state of mind vaguely. It was stronger when the Savannah cat was close by, but the bond was definitely strengthening as the days wore on. Harry had enough privacy in the middle of the night to practice transforming into an ocelot and back. He was even able to sneak out of the house a couple of times to roam the streets of Little Whinging with Merlin.

It was fun for Harry to let the wild cat take over. He hunted for small animals, mostly mice and birds, alongside his familiar. Their bond had progressed so much, that they could almost hear each other's thoughts if they projected them loudly when Harry was in his cat form.

As far as Voldemort's Horcrux was concerned, Harry was still at a dead end. He had no idea how to get his hands on the evil artifact without drawing attention to either himself or Draco. He needed to stay free of suspicion, or it would be exponentially more difficult for him to achieve his end game: defeating the Dark Lord.

He hated to wait for an opening, like he had with Quirrell the previous school year. But as of now, waiting seemed like his only choice.

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Thanks for reading!


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